NOT far from the ancient cathedral city of Rochester, and the war-like town of Chatham, there still stands an old, square, red-brick mansion in a lovely garden. Gardens in Kent are always lovely, but the garden of Magnus Hall, stretching down its gentle hillside to the waters of the Medway, is still, as it has been for over three hundred years, one of the loveliest of them all.About the old house stretches, on sides and rear, a wooded park—of oak, and beech, and chestnut, and elm—w...

There was always something about John Vane that commanded attention. The strong, stern, well-featured face, almost swarthy in complexion, the straight line of black eyebrows overshadowing bright and piercing black eyes—it was a face that compelled regard, that aroused a feeling of respect in the average man, not untinged with fear. It was not the kind of face that is soon forgotten, nor the sort that is lost in any merging with other faces. It would be as easily forgotten as is the face of...